


Heights and a Lack of Self-Preservation

by MelanieSkye



Series: Dick and Bipolar II [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Bipolar II, Depression, Depression bonding, Hypomania, Mentions of Suicide Attempts, Mentions of self-harm, Suicidal Ideation, Tim and Dick bonding, bipolar depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 10:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21034616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelanieSkye/pseuds/MelanieSkye
Summary: For years Dick sat on this rooftop, looking out at Gotham and considering falling. First as Robin and now as Nightwing.He has more to live for than ever, but that doesn't stop the desire to die that always pounded at the back of his head.





	Heights and a Lack of Self-Preservation

**Author's Note:**

> Here's another one-shot I wrote. :) Let me know what you think!

Dick sat on the ledge of one of his favorite rooftops. His legs swung over the side, dangling over the top of the building. The Gotham skyline shown in front of him, the lights and pollution from the city blocking the clear view of the starry sky. Looking down Dick could barely make out the cars and people below. The faint sounds of people talking and cars honking floated up to the top of the building.

Dick placed his hands on the ledge and pulled his legs over his head, moving into a back bend. Pulling himself into a headstand, he walked down the ledge on his hands before sitting back on the ledge. 

He stared down into the street below and sighed. Sometimes he wondered what it’d be like to fall. Would the world slow down and he would fall in slow motion until his body crashed to the ground? Would it be over immediately? Would he blink and his body would hit the ground? Would he die on impact or would he bleed out on the concrete?

As Robin, Dick often sat on this ledge contemplating jumping off the ledge. The insistent nagging at the back of his head, screaming to die. Screaming for him to rake a knife over his arms, over his legs. To curl up in his bed and sleep and maybe he’d be lucky and not wake up. The fatigue often over took him but around others he’d plaster a smile on his face and pretend to be happy with the best of him. Bruce needed that. He couldn’t let Bruce worry about him or for Bruce to know how weak he was. Bruce was too dark and gloomy and it was Dick’s _job _to keep both Bruce and Batman’s spirits up.

Or he would take off his utility belt and treat the ledge as a balance beam to practice acrobatic routines. If he fell, he fell. Sometimes those days were when Bruce benched him for ‘risky behavior.’ Apparently waiting till the last second to swing to the next building was ‘unnecessarily risky.’ Dick couldn’t help it. It wasn’t his fault that Bruce seemed to think it mattered if Dick hit the ground because he didn’t use his zip line on time. Sometimes his mind and body thrummed and he had to do something, had to move. He wouldn’t sleep for days. His body was tired but his mind wouldn’t let him sleep. When Bruce began to question him about it, he started trying to hide it. Isolate himself to the batcave during the days he was not at school. Spend the day running on the treadmill, practicing acrobatics. Or rearrange his room for the 100th time or bugging Alfred into letting him help with something. 

But he couldn’t jump. He knew that. Dick didn’t want Bruce to realize how weak he was, how he couldn’t control his own mind and his own darkness.

Now, he sits in the same spot as Nightwing still contemplating jumping off the roof. And he now has more reason, objectively, to not jump. It doesn't mean he wants to die any less than before. He can’t let his family know how weak he actually is. Dick knows he can’t mention his struggles to anyone in his family. Not only would they realize how weak he is, but they would worry about him. How could he explain to them that this is his normal?

Plus, there wasn’t time for anyone to worry about him. There was no time for his depression. Dick doesn’t have time to worry about himself. He was still playing mediator between Jason and Bruce as well as Damian and Bruce. Damian’s relationship with Bruce was improving—thankfully they were arguing less. Damian made a great Robin. Convincing Bruce of that had been tricky after he came back but Bruce and Damian were starting to settle in as Batman and Robin.

And Cass. His new(ish) little sister. He worried about her settling into the family and into Gotham. With the bat family, she was good of course—she was the best fighter out of all of them. So far, Cass was settling in well. Her and Stephanie had immediately connected creating a bit of a dangerous duo.

Stephanie was, at times, a worriedly loose cannon. She’d taken to almost living at the manor. Every time he turned around she was there. He didn’t think their family could handle it if she died again. Damian and Stephanie had started to get closer—though they’d both deny it—and Damian wouldn’t deal with her death well. Tim couldn't deal with her dying again.

Tim. Dick worried about Tim. Tim doesn’t sleep, he doesn’t really eat, and he lived off coffee. Recently, he tended to brood more than normal. Both Tim and Bruce needed someone to knock them out of it and remember people cared. As the oldest, Dick considered it his role in the family take care of everyone. He kept failing them but it was his job.

Dick sighed, running a hand through his hair. All of that and he still wanted to die with an almost manic desperation. He never expected to live to thirty, yet here he was, almost thirty. Guess he should’ve taken the “where do you want to be in ten years” question seriously. It had always seemed a ridiculous question. It was still a ridiculous question.

Boots hit the roof behind him. Dick flinched.

“Hey Red Robin.”

There was shuffling behind him before Red Robin plopped down next to Dick.

“O sent me to check on you since you haven’t been responding.”

Dick turned to Red Robin and grinned broadly. “Oh, sorry I didn’t mean to worry everyone. I wanted a moment to look out at Gotham.” Dick frowned. “Is everything okay? I didn’t hear about any emergencies over the comm.”

Tim shrugged, looking out at Gotham. “No, it’s a relatively calm night. For Gotham, at least.” He turned to look at Dick. “Dude, you okay?”

Dick plastered a smile on his face. “Of course!”

Tim cocked his head while he looked at Dick. Even with the white lenses covering his eyes, the concern was clear. “You know I’m here for you right, Dick?” Tim asked, dropping field names. “We all are." 

Dick beamed at his little brother. “Thanks Tim, but I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” He threw an arm around Tim’s shoulders and motioned dramatically with the other. “I’m the big brother, it’s my job to worry about you.” 

Tim attempted to escape his brother’s hold. “Dick, I’m being serious.”

Dick ignored Tim’s attempt to escape and pulled Tim closer to him. “I know, but I’m fine little wing.”

Tim relented, leaning his head against Dick’s shoulder. “You better be.”

Dick pinged Oracle. “Hey O, Red Robin and I are calling it a night.” 

After Oracle agreed, Tim and Dick stayed on the roof until the sun began to rise.


End file.
